Bdsm Sex Stories

by Olga Menson

  To my awed surprise, she sped up. She may not have been experienced, but she wanted me, and she wanted me to come in her mouth. I finally reached the peak of my pleasure and let go. Pulse after pulse of sticky, salty cum poured into my little sister's mouth. She did her best but wasn't ready for all of it. I heard her swallow once, twice, and then she coughed and let me out of her mouth. My hot cum splashed on her face, mouth, and throat. We both sat there for a moment, shocked.

  Ashley looked over at me, her eyes deep enough to fall into, her expression that of a nervous little girl, wanting to impress her big brother. With my cum on her face, and flowing down her neck onto her full, beautiful breasts, she spoke.

  "Was that, um, ok for you?"

  "Fuck, Ashley, it was the best."

  Ashley smiled so widely and happily that, at least for that moment, I didn't feel a bit guilty. I leaned forward to kiss her. She tried to dodge.

  "Wait, I need to clean up fir..."

  I cut her off by kissing her on her lips. I tasted myself on her, but I didn't care. I needed to kiss her, show her how much I cared. After what could have been seconds or minutes. I stopped, stood up, and led her to the lake. At first, my thoughts were about cleaning her, so we didn't get in trouble, but as I slowly washed my seed out of my sister's face and neck and chest, I flashed back to all of the times that I'd taken care of her before. When I'd cleaned her cuts and kissed her bruises. When I'd held her when she cried. When I'd kissed her head after tucking her in. This felt weirdly similar.

  You know, washing your sticky cum out of your sister's bikini. Just normal sibling stuff. Jesus fucking Christ.

  The rest of the afternoon was kind of wholesome, in a way. We ate lunch together and swam more and laughed at stupid stuff. We lay down on the rock like we used to, but this time we held hands and dozed a little. We woke up and made out like new lovers, which I guess we were. Ash was a really good kisser, and for a moment I wondered if she really was as inexperienced as she insisted, but I honestly didn't care. Our hands explored each other, touching and groping. Even though I was hard again and she was probably wet we didn't escalate. It seemed wrong somehow. Like we had to wait for the night to come before we did.

  As we walked back, quietly, hand in hand, Ashley spoke up suddenly.

  "You can go down on me later. I mean...if that's something, you...um...want to do. I don't really know...I mean...I know a lot of guys don't like doing that..."

  "Ashley," I cut her off, "I'm going to eat you like a fat kid eats cake."

  She laughed.

  "Um, should I be, uh, flattered or offended?"

  "It doesn't matter. You're gonna cum hard either way."

  Ashley laughed again and leaned into me. I put my arm around her waist. It felt natural. Whatever else happened this summer, I realized that we had changed. And I thought it was probably for the better. We just had to be careful not to be caught and cautious of each other's feelings. Even if this was some kind of fluke, that was what was important, right? If we did that, everything else would work out, right?

  I wouldn't understand how wrong I was until later that night.

  * * *

  Nightmare

  * * *

  [b]June 6th and 7th, 1985 - The Day of Sacrifice[/b]

  Ashley insisted on cooking that night, much like she'd made breakfast. I realized, somewhat belatedly, that she was taking the same role that Mom would have for Dad. She was being both the satisfying lover and the domestic goddess. I'd never really thought of what I'd want in a wife, and somehow I saw it more as a partnership, but I won't pretend that I didn't appreciate what she was doing.

  I just wish that she didn't feel like she had to do it. It was clear that she wanted to impress me by the way she kept looking over at me and asking me if I wanted anything. She'd already gotten me a beer and told me that she was going to take care of everything and that I should just relax.

  I was having a difficult time following that instruction.

  For one thing, despite loving every second of what had happened that afternoon at the lake, I still had second thoughts. Was I taking advantage of her? Was I hurting her in some way, even if unintentional?

  For another, she was wearing a short yellow sundress, and I could tell that she had decided that a bra was optional. When she put the apron on, she really did look like the incarnation of the ideal mate that she was trying to emulate. After catching myself staring at her for the dozenth time as she busied herself with mixing ingredients, I finally made up my mind and set my beer down.

  Ashley was so focussed on getting the proportions right that she didn't hear me sneaking up on her. She stiffened slightly as I wrapped my arms around her but then relaxed and sighed as my hands found her belly and breasts respectively. She tried to focus but almost dropped a measuring cup full of flour when I started to tweak her nipples.

  "H...hey. I'm trying to...oh fuck..."

  I'd meant to just surprise her a bit, but I felt myself stiffen again as I began to kiss and nip her neck. She protested again, weakly. Then she spun and faced me, putting her flour-covered hands on my chest.

  "I...I want to get this pie right, ok? That feels so good...but...I really want to do this for you."

  I relented. I never could deny my little sister anything.

  "All right, I'll leave you be for now, but I can't just watch you do all the work while I sit and do nothing. Can I at least start making dinner while you make pie?"

  "Ok. I mean, I always did like cooking with you, you know."

  I did. We didn't do it as much as we used to, but soon we were back in our old rhythm. We moved through the kitchen in something approaching harmony, me making lasagna (and of course garlic bread), and Ashley working on the homemade pie. We passed each other ingredients, sometimes before being asked, we moved around each other smoothly, and snuck kisses and gropes when we could. Pretty soon the lasagna was in the oven, and the bread and pie were ready.

  It was the best dinner I've had in a long time. I sat there with my sister, my lover, and we overate and made stupid jokes and laughed at each others' expense. We talked about history and the people that we'd dated, and how none of them quite worked out. About how none of them felt entirely right.

  "I always felt," Ashley said, "that I was cheating on my future spouse whenever I let a guy so much as kiss me."

  She stopped then and held my hand, blushing furiously. I should have said something then about how we were too young to talk like that, and how we did not need to be thinking that far ahead. The truth was that I felt the same and that my little sister was the first person I'd done anything sexual with that did not have that vague, looming guilt hovering over it.

  I couldn't bring myself to speak either truth at the time, so I just squeezed her hand and kissed it. I think she understood.

  After dinner, we sat with each other on the porch. She had a beer, and I had lemonade. I didn't mind watching out for her if she drank a little too much and despite (or perhaps because) of the closeness that I felt, I was aware and thinking about last night, and not just the fun parts. I was mostly concerned about the eyes in the dark and about our father's warnings.

  Don't you ever let your sister go into the woods alone, John. Your mother never goes out without me as her protector, and I want you to be the same for Ashley. This is important.

  He made such an impression on me that I remembered the exact words that he'd spoken. I'd thought about sharing them with Ash, but as the day went on, I realized that she was going to need rest and probably would already be afraid. I decided to keep it to myself.

  Besides, I was probably going to be sleeping in her bed again tonight so I could tell her if it became important. I was fairly certain that wasn't the sort of "protection" that dad had intended.

  "I could get used to this," Ashley said, at last, waking me from my gloomy thoughts.

  "Me too. We have to do this as much as possible before Mom and Dad get here."

  Ashley nestled her head into
the crook of my neck.

  "Yeah...but we don't have to stop, do we? I mean, we have to be careful, but we can still hang out together...and go and do stuff in the woods. Or sneak into each other's rooms at night, right? I...I really want this summer to be special. I want to prove to you that I can be everything you want."

  "Why would you think you have to prove anything?"

  I felt her small hand gripping the hem of my shirt and releasing it, an old nervous habit.

  "Well, I mean...I'm so inexperienced. And you've had so many girls that I..."

  "Ok, let me stop you. You said that before. Why would you think that I was sleeping around with a ton of girls? I mean, I've dated, yeah. And I've had sex with some girls at home and at college..."

  "See!"

  "But the grand total is like five, Ashley. Only three of them went all the way with me. And only one was more than casual, but we broke up earlier this year. I'm not exactly Casanova. So why do you seem to think I put my dick in every pussy within a three-state radius?"

  "Well, I mean...you have a lot of girlfriends."

  "Yep, friends. One or two of them I might have made out with, but that was spur of the moment and never went anywhere. Still just friends."

  "And, well, Mom kept telling me that you were seeing this girl or that she thought you were dating an 'older woman.' She would get weird about it."

  "How weird?"

  "Well, not like obsessive but like...she'd always point it out to me, whenever you talked about a girl on one of your calls home. Or if she thought you were going to bring a girl home for the weekend. Always me. Never dad. She had to know it bothered me..."

  "It did?"

  "Of course it did! Would you want dad to tell you about guys he thought were fucking me?"

  "No."

  "Yeah, so I kept thinking about it, and it made me upset and...and frustrated. I kept imagining you doing...things...to girls you knew, and it made me so angry. I wanted to slap you and then...well..."

  Ashley blushed again. We'd crossed a lot of lines today, but it was still hard to talk about a lot of it.

  "That's...weird, Ashley."

  "What, being jealous? I know, but...I mean...don't we both have the same feelings for each other?"

  "No, I meant what Mom was doing. I mean, was she like, proud or disappointed in me or what?"

  "She never judged you for it, but I got the impression that she didn't approve...but really, I don't know. Whenever I got mad she'd just smirk at me...like she knew something I didn't..."

  "Maybe she did. Maybe she was trying to make you jealous..."

  "You're not saying that she wanted us to get together?"

  "I'm not saying anything, just that I can't think of another explanation. Can we change the subject?"

  Ashley laughed.

  "Aw, is big brother embarrassed?"

  "Yeah, I am, and that really says something considering what I'm about to do to my little sister."

  Ash's voice got hushed and a little hoarse.

  "Y..yeah? And what's that."

  "I want to take her upstairs to her bed and taste her. I want to feel her cum on my tongue. And not just once."

  "Fuck...I...I'm going to go take a shower. Come upstairs in like twenty minutes?"

  And with that she hopped off my lap, not waiting for a response. I guess she was excited. I finished my drink and walked around the house once, then twice, looking into the slowly growing gloom of twilight. I wasn't sure what I was searching for, not really. Eyes, I guess, but also what came with them. I realized with some surprise that I wasn't afraid for myself at all. I'd never seen myself as brave, but the idea of something hurting my little sister...my lover now...made me that way. I couldn't accept a world in which I wasn't able to protect her.

  * *

  I waited twenty-five minutes before I went upstairs, just to prove that I had some willpower left. I knocked on her door and heard her swear, softly.

  "Um...come in, I guess?"

  I went inside. Ash was under the covers already. Her shoulders were bare, and I guessed the rest of her was too. Fuck I wanted to see that. I wanted all of her. If I weren't careful, I'd end up fucking her...and as much as I desperately wanted it, I still was unsure about that last frontier. Well, we'd gone far enough that getting each other off was ok, right?

  I have no idea who I was trying to justify to myself. By all social and cultural standards, we were in the wrong, and me especially as the older brother. We were beyond that now, making up a new morality as we went.

  I just never wanted to hurt her, or be hurt by her. I decided that if I kept that in mind, this would work out.

  "You know," I said, softly, "If you're not ready, we don't have to do anything at all. I'll still hold you and stay with you."

  "No! I'm ready, I just...I'm nervous. It doesn't make any sense. I was so happy and turned on to show my body to you today...and you saw pretty much everything. I guess I still think you'll see me as...fat."

  "There's no chance of it. We can keep the lights off if it makes you more comfortable but...I really need to see you, Ashley. I need to see all of you."

  "Uh...what about a compromise?"

  "Compromise?"

  "You light that candle and then turn out the lights. Then, I guess, I feel a little safer, and you get to see me. Win-win, right?"

  I smiled at her and lit the candle. My hand was shaking as I struck the match, but I tried not to let it show. I turned the light off and then looked at her again. She was still under the covers, but she released her grip on them. I walked over, and slowly pulled them off of her.

  It's corny, I know, but Ashley was the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen, and that included the stack of Playboys back at my dorm. She was clearly tense but had forced herself to leave her hands at her sides. She was exposed to me, vulnerable, large breasts spreading a bit, legs slightly parted. She hadn't shaved, but she might have trimmed a bit. It didn't matter to me at all. Everything about her was the ideal mix soft and firm. Her nipples were hard and just the right size. Her sex was swollen and the wettest I'd ever seen. I caught her scent then, and I almost fucked her right there. I don't think she would have minded.

  Instead, I took off my shirt and shorts and stood naked in front of her for a moment. It was only fair to share her vulnerability. I'd be a liar if I said that I didn't want her to see how hard she'd made me. It was gratifying to see her eyes lock on my cock and grow wide. She was definitely as into me as I was to her. I crawled into bed with her.

  "I'm not ready," she said, with more than a hint of fear in her voice.

  "That's ok. We don't have to do anything. I can put my clothes back on and..."

  "No, I mean...I'm ok with doing other stuff, and I'll get you off. I really want to. I just, um, I'm not ready to go all the way. I'm sorry but..."

  I smiled and then cut her off with a kiss. I would never push her into anything she didn't want. She responded, practically forcing her tongue into my mouth. My hand found her breast, and I squeezed it gently before pinching her nipple, a little hard. She gasped and then was clinging to me, her arms moving around my neck and pulling me closer. I resisted, drawing it out, wanting this kiss to last a long, long time in my memory.

  I relented eventually. I kept fondling her as I kissed her neck. I nipped her then, again a little hard. She made a noise between a gasp and a whimper, but I knew she loved it. I knew a lot of things more or less instinctively about what she wanted and needed. I didn't question it. I was too far gone for rational thought.

  I moved down and kissed her breast. How many times had I dreamt of doing this and then felt terrible in the morning? She cried out when I took her nipple into my mouth, her body arching, trying to drive her pussy into me. I satisfied that urge with my hand, and I felt her reflexively grasp my hair, too hard, and pull. Knowing that I could make my sister lose control like that was a fantastic feeling.

  "Yeah...yeah...please...please make me cum again. I'll be good, I swear. I won't ma
ke you...I mean…"

  I didn't understand what she meant at all, but I didn't want her to be good. I slowly kissed my way down the underside of her breast, to her stomach, which fluttered and tensed beneath me. I felt her small hands, both of them in my hair now, pushing urgently down. I resisted. I didn't need to look to know that her eyes were on my head now, willing me to move faster. I knew that they would be wide and needy and full of something which scared me.

  It was when I tasted her for the first time things started to go wrong. My lips met her wetness, and I swear her musk was enough to make me insane. I wanted her more than I had wanted anything. More than I wanted to live. I'd never felt like this about anyone, and I doubt I ever will again. It hurt. Deeply in my stomach, my mind, my balls. I ached, and as I lightly sucked on her swollen clit, I knew that she felt the same.

  She came, screaming my name, grinding into my face, much too hard to be comfortable for either of us. I could feel it pass through her in waves, desperate in its intensity. Her body would tense up like she was being electrocuted, then go completely limp. It happened over and over as I slipped my finger inside her. I should have stopped. I knew enough about being a good lover to know when a woman was getting too sensitive. Usually, they told me though, and Ash just wanted more. Her hands were no longer pushing me in. She wasn't truly grinding anymore. Her body was in an endless cycle of orgasms.

  I looked up then and was terrified.

  Ashley was lost in pleasure, her whole body writhing. She could not, did not see them. The eyes were everywhere. They shone with light that no star had ever shined and I could feel their hunger as if it were a real spike of iron in my gut. They wanted her. They reached out with hands, insubstantial and black as the void. I knew that if they touched my sister, that she would die. I did the only thing I could think of: I threw myself over her, covering her as best I could.

  I don't know why I did that rather than try to fight them. I was lucky that I made that choice, and so was Ashley. There is no weapon made by man that can kill a thing that's never lived. They seemed stymied, however briefly, by my actions. I felt them then, grabbing at...no, reaching into my arms, desperately pulling. I'm sure I cried out because the pain was as intense as if I had shards of ice embedded in my shoulders and biceps. All I heard was Ashley, confused and scared, screaming at me. After a time that could have been a minute or an hour, I felt the cold hands release me.